In You My Dreams Come True
by sadiered
Summary: Baby Ballerina Verse. Santana's daughter, Mattie, takes dance lessons from Brittany. The first part of this story was written for the 2015 Brittanacon Fic Prompts.
1. A Bolt Out of the Blue

"Motherfucking shit," Santana hissed under her breath as she tucked her arms a little tighter around her body, tugging her thin jacket close. She was hurrying through the streets of Philadelphia, and she was very late.

It had started with her boss calling her in for a mandatory full staff meeting, between the lunch rush and the dinner surge. It wasn't a good time for Santana, and he was well aware of that fact, but if Santana didn't have this job, part time and terrible as it was, then she didn't pull in any money, and that wasn't an option. So Santana had managed to get to the meeting, only to find it a lot less mandatory and important and a lot more meandering and shit that could have been written in an email or posted in the kitchen for the employees to read. And it had run over by a full twenty-six minutes, which moved Santana's commute firmly into the start of rush hour.

Then, the train that she usually took was down, which Santana didn't find out until after she had spent twelve minutes pacing on the platform. Cursing the Southeastern Pennsylvania Transportation Authority and wishing that there was a bus stop near the restaurant, Santana hurried back up the steps, hoping for a cab. It was expensive, but she was late.

Unfortunately, when she climbed into the cab and gave her destination, the driver shook his head. There was a big accident on one of the major roads and the whole area was in almost complete gridlock. He was nice enough to let Santana back out without have to pay for the half a block that he had driven her, which Santana appreciated.

But that left her with no quick options, extremely late, and with slushy snow seeping into her sneakers.

Santana took off walking, jogging by turns, balancing her rush to get there with the knowledge that it was going to be a long, cold, wet walk.

Santana was in such a rush because she needed to pick up her daughter from ballet. Matilda Lopez, nicknamed Mattie almost immediately, as Matilda was definitely too long for such a tiny and adorable baby, was two and a half years old and the absolute light of her mother's life. The ballet class was at the community center near their apartment and run through some program provided to help low income kids experience art and sports that they otherwise would not be able to.

Of course, the moment that she realized that she might be late, Santana had texted Mattie's teacher, a woman named Brittany that Mattie had become enthralled with over the past few months. Brittany had assured Santana that it was okay, and Mattie could help with the next class, but it still made a sick feeling settle into Santana's stomach as she tried to find a way to her daughter. After all, Mattie was already up a class, with the four and five year olds, instead of the two and three year olds where she ought to be. Santana had to take a particular and important course this semester, and it prevented her from being able to bring Mattie to the right class, so Brittany had already very graciously allowed Mattie to be with kids that she probably had no business learning with. Helping with the class after hers meant that Mattie would be with six, seven, and eight year olds, and Santana wasn't sure how her tiny little daughter would feel about that.

And all of that was before Santana realized that she as going to have to walk. She pulled out her phone and fired another text message off to Brittany, letting her know that she was going to get there as soon as possible. For a moment, Santana rubbed her burning eyes, telling herself she didn't have time, before taking off.

It was cold and wet and long, just as Santana thought it would be, and by the time that she made it to the community center, it was dark. Her sneakers were soaked from the number of times that she had accidentally stepped in a big puddle of slush, and her jacket wasn't doing as well as it used to at keeping the cold out. Her nose, she was sure, was bright red from the cold, and her hands, even though she had kept them in her pockets, were freezing. Still, Santana didn't stop hurrying as she went up the steps, two at a time, and through the doors. The dance class was held in a little room towards the back, and Santana felt her heart sink as she noticed that the only lights inside were coming from that room. The walk had somehow taken her even more time than she had hoped and Mattie and Brittany were the only ones left.

Santana crossed the gym quickly, her shoes squeaking against the floor. She paused for a moment in the doorway, finally catching sight of Mattie. Her soft brown curls were still pulled up in a ponytail, tied with her special pink ribbon that she would not wear except for to ballet. Her big brown eyes were watching Brittany seriously, nodding along to whatever story Brittany was telling her. The black leotard and pink tights, with her little leather ballet shoes, completed her outfit. Santana was thankful to her mom for them. Maribel had come for an Abuela-Mattie day back in October, before the class began, and took Mattie to get two leotards, a black and a pink, a pair of tights, and a pair of slippers. They had also found a soft pink sweater, just like the girl in the book that Mattie had gotten for her birthday in June. Mattie had been over the moon.

Santana stepped through the doorway, and Mattie immediately turned, her face lighting up as she saw Santana. "Mama!" Mattie cried, leaping to her feet and scurrying over, her ballet slippers tapping quietly against the wood floor. Santana leaned down to scoop her daughter up immediately, cuddling her close and breathing in her own little scent. Just to know that her little girl was safe and that she had her near made Santana feel a lot better.

"Hi, sweet girl," Santana said when Mattie finally pulled away from the hug. "I'm sorry that I was so late."

"It's okay," Mattie said, "Miss Brittany maked me her best helper."

Santana smiled and looked up at Mattie's teacher. Brittany was a striking woman, probably a few years older than Santana, with pretty blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and long, graceful limbs. It was impossible not to notice how beautiful she was. Santana had watched most of the classes as well, and she knew that Brittany was amazing with the kids.

"Thank you so much," Santana said, taking a few steps in, but aware that her sneakers were wet and dirty. She didn't want to track all over the floor so that Brittany would have to clean it. Santana shifted Mattie onto her hip so she could reach for her wallet. The least that she could do was pay Brittany something for her time. After all, Santana was pretty sure that Brittany didn't receive much of anything at all to teach this class, and Santana had made her job even more difficult by not being able to pick her daughter up on time.

There wasn't much money in her wallet. And it would mean walking back home for sure. But it was a lot shorter walk, and Mattie had a hat and mittens and a new coat, thanks to a Christmas present from Abuela, so she wouldn't be cold.

Feeling ashamed that she was even in the position to have picked her little girl up so late, and doubly ashamed that she only had seven dollars to make up for it, Santana held out the cash.

"Oh, god, no," Brittany said, shaking her head and gently pushing Santana's hand away. "It was seriously my pleasure. I was thinking of asking if Mattie could come to all of my classes." Brittany grinned and winked at Mattie, who buried her head into Santana's shoulder with a shy grin. "She was, like, the best helper ever."

Santana hesitated, holding out the money again. "Are you sure?"

Brittany closed her hand around Santana's, gently folding Santana's fingers in so that the money was in her fist. "I'm sure."

"Brr, Mama, your cheeks are chilly," Mattie piped up, covering Santana's cheeks with her hands. "I will warm them all up."

"Thanks, baby girl," Santana said, her cheeks warming up plenty as they flamed with a blush of embarrassment. She could tell that Brittany could see her wet sneakers, her thin coat, the tired and worried look that she was sure she always sported. It was a little intimidating and uncomfortable to have so many personal pieces of her life laid bare in front of this stunning, talented, and kind woman. "And thank you again," Santana said.

"Not a problem, really." Brittany smiled and then turned to her bag, packing away the things she had brought, getting herself ready to head out into the cold, Philadelphia air. Santana busied herself with Mattie's clothes, helping her into a pair of baby skinny jeans (ridiculous but adorable) and a warm blue coat. Her red hat and mittens and sparkly silver boots, more presents from Abuela, would be enough to keep her warm. Santana helped Mattie pull on the tiny pink backpack that held her ballet things, and then scooped her up again, starting for the door.

"Actually, there is something that you could do for me."

Santana stopped and turned to look at Brittany, who was hesitating with her own jacket in her hands. "Of course, what?" Santana asked, wondering what she could possibly have that Brittany would want.

"Let me take you out for dinner." Of all the things that Santana was thinking, that was nowhere near the list. "Both of you," Brittany added. "Please?"

Santana was going to protest. She had been doing things by herself for a long time, and she was actually pretty good at it. She didn't need any help, really. They could scrape by on what Santana could make. But she didn't want Mattie to feel the sharp sting of their situation, so Santana did accept some help. From her mother, like the cost of this class, and from her landlady, who had dropped Mattie off today and who probably was undercharging Santana on rent a little bit. But it still didn't feel good, and when she could get along just as well without, Santana didn't accept help.

But there was something about Brittany's face, the look in her eye, kindness without pity, that made Santana hesitate.

Santana looked at Mattie and found big brown eyes looking up at her with hope. Restaurants were a very rare treat, and restaurants with Mattie's amazing ballet teacher were unheard of. It was a look that Santana could not deny.

"Okay."

* * *

Santana followed Brittany out to her car, a new looking Prius, still carrying Mattie. It was too slick and dark out for Santana to feel comfortable letting her daughter walk. Brittany had a small bag of dance stuff, since it seemed like most of her things just stayed locked in the closet. Brittany stuck the bag in the backseat and then cleared a few composition notebooks and sweatshirts off the driver's side seat.

"Um, M— Brittany?" Santana said, stumbling for a moment, as she tried not to call her Miss Brittany as they did at home. Brittany looked up, and Santana gestured to Mattie, who couldn't sit on a seat by herself.

Brittany froze for a moment, and then her face cleared and she grinned. "Stay right here," she said, sticking her car keys in the ignition and starting it up so they would have some heat. Grabbing the keys to the community center, Brittany scurried back the way they came, leaping deftly over puddles and icy spots, until she was up and through the back door.

Santana slipped into the front seat to be closer to the vents, holding her hand behind Mattie's head to make sure that she didn't bump her.

"Miss Brittany got a nice car," Mattie observed, looking at the lights of the dashboard and the welcome animation. Mattie leaned forward and stuck her mittens over one of the vents, giggling as the hot air tickled her fingers. Then she pressed the warmed fabric to Santana's ears, still giggling. Santana grinned and leaned forward to kiss Mattie's nose, ignoring the pang in her heart. She wanted to be able to give Mattie the sort of life where a four year old car's light up dashboard and heater vents weren't shocking and thrilling things.

"When we go to dinner with Miss Brittany," Santana said, cupping her hands around Mattie's mittens and pressing a kiss to the palm of each hand, "I need you to best the best listener ever, and remember all of your nice manners we've been working on, okay? Say please and thank you, two hands on your milk cup, no singing at the table, okay?"

"Okay, Mama," Mattie said with a serious nod.

"Thank you, Mattie-Bear." Santana knew that she probably didn't have anything to fear, not at a brand new restaurant and not in front of the revered Miss Brittany, but she didn't want Brittany thinking any worse of her than she might already, if Mattie didn't at least try to make good choices during dinner.

Seconds later, the driver's side backseat door opened, and Santana turned to see Brittany with a car seat in her hands. "The community center keeps a few of these hanging around in the back. As long as I bring it back on Thursday, no one should mind me borrowing it." And with that, she set to work installing it. It only took a few moments, and then Brittany moved out of the way and Santana stepped out and around the car to strap Mattie in. Santana didn't have a car seat of her own. They were too expensive for the very rare use that they would get out of one. Still, she had researched extensively about them, just to make sure that she knew for the rare occasions where Mattie actually had to be in one, so in a few moments, the straps were the right tightness and Mattie's coat was draped over her body like a blanket.

Santana climbed back into the front seat and fiddled nervously with the hem of her jacket and the edge of her seatbelt, already starting to regret the decision to accept this meal. She had plenty of good food for Mattie to eat at home. And then she wouldn't have to sit here and feel like she was going to burst into flames from how hard she was blushing and her stomach wouldn't be twisted into knots over what Brittany might ask and wonder and think.

"There's a nice place up here," Brittany said as she backed out. Once they had merged onto the road, she turned on the radio softly. "Miss Mattie," she said, her eyes flicking up to the mirror to look at Mattie.

"Yes, Miss Brittany?" Mattie said shyly, with a big grin and her dimples showing. Santana felt her heart melting a little.

"Did you tell your mama about the song that we're going to be learning our dance to?" Santana had turned in her seat so that she could look back at Mattie, though she kept glancing forward wanting to see Brittany's face too. Brittany was grinning almost as big as Mattie was.

"Wish up on a Star!" Mattie chirped with a huge smile. Santana felt her heart jump in her chest. "When You Wish Upon a Star" was the song that she had sung to Mattie since she was just a tiny little bundle of blankets, and Santana was just a scared teenager hoping that the words were somehow true. She wished every night that she rocked that precious baby to sleep, sometimes that they'd find enough money to make it through the week, sometimes that she could pass a test and keep herself on her new track for her degree, sometimes just wishing that Mattie wouldn't feel the strain of their situation, that she would always be happy and healthy and cared for.

Now that she was older, Mattie sang the words with her almost every night, her tiny fingers rubbing over her soft blankie or playing with Santana's collar, or just curled loosely around Santana's own.

"Mattie told me that you sang that song to her. She was really excited to dance to it," Brittany supplied, still smiling.

"I do sing that song to her," Santana sing, giving Mattie a smile. "That's pretty special, Mattie-Bear."

"When you wish up on a star," Mattie started from the backseat, kicking her legs in rhythm with her tuneless and soft singing. "Make no diffence who you are." When Santana didn't join in, an indignant look crossed Mattie's face, and she dropped her feet back down and leaned forward the very small amount that her straps would allow. "Sing it," she demanded.

"Mattie, I—" Santana began, glancing at Brittany and the radio, a flush rising to her cheeks. She couldn't sing in front of Brittany. The only person she had sung for in three years or more was Mattie.

"Please, Mama-Bear?" Mattie asked.

"Just a little bit," Santana relented. "When you wish upon a star, makes no different who you are, anything your heart desires will come to you." Brittany reached out and turned off the radio, making Santana's cheeks flame even more. "If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme, when you wish upon a star as dreamers do." Santana couldn't bring herself to continue, and she turned a deeper shade of red when Mattie clapped in the back seat. "Thanks, baby," Santana murmured.

"That was great," Brittany said, her voice soft. "I mean it."

"Thank you." Santana's heart beat in her chest as she glanced Brittany's way, glad to find that Brittany's eyes were on the road. She didn't know why she was so embarrassed and invested at the same time, but she was hoping that she could just get the dinner over with.

* * *

The rest of the ride was only a few more minutes and was passed in relative silence, once Brittany turned the radio back on. The restaurant was a good choice, Santana had to admit. It was close and quiet, with pretty dark booths, but still a clean environment and didn't look ridiculously expensive. They also had a kids menu and some crayons, which Santana was grateful for as they were lead to a booth. Santana slipped into one side, helping Mattie onto the seat between her and the wall. Mattie said that she was hot, so Santana helped her out of her winter clothes, stuffing the hat and mittens into the jacket sleeves and tucking the coat into the seat. Mattie began coloring on her menu, drawing crooked, lopsided m's in between purple scribbles.

Content that her daughter was engaged for the moment, Santana looked through the menu. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly in hunger as she looked at all of the different food. They had plenty of food for Mattie at home, but Santana had skipped her own lunch, trying to make sure that Mattie would be ready to go to ballet with Ms. Blair at the same time as she attended her online class before her meeting, and her body was reminding her that it was a dumb decision now. Which Santana knew, of course. She had been taking care of herself and Mattie for two and a half years now, more including her pregnancy, and she knew that her own health mattered as much as Mattie's, but things slipped through the cracks. It was just a lot of work to be a student, waitress, and mother all at once. Mattie was worth it all, but that didn't make it easy.

Santana suddenly realized that Brittany had said something, and she had totally missed it. "Sorry?" she said, the sinking feeling of humiliation dragging on her heart again.

"I asked if you'd found anything that looked good," Brittany said with a smile. "I really like their pizzas, if you haven't. Great quality ingredients and everything."

Santana glanced down at her menu, seeing the pizza heading, with specialties and the choice to make your own. She couldn't deny that the price was pretty good for a sit-down restaurant like this, and if Brittany was a dancer, then she assumed that she probably knew at least something about healthy ingredients. Plus, that would leave her leftovers for another day's meal and that was always a bonus for Santana. "Thanks," she said with a soft smile at Brittany. The kids' menu had a mac and cheese with chicken and broccoli, which Mattie would like and Santana knew would at least give her protein and vegetables.

The waitress appeared pretty quickly after Santana had finally made her decisions, before Brittany or Santana really had much time to do anything but admire the m that Mattie showed them. They put their order in, two pizzas, two waters, a mac and cheese, and a milk, and then the waitress left.

An awkward silence settled over the table.

Mattie remained blissfully unaware, naming each of the colors in her packet of eight crayons, showing them to Santana before scribbling on the paper.

But Santana could feel it, settling over her, crawling across her skin. She knew that this dinner with Brittany was a mistake. Why else would Brittany want to take her out, unless she felt pity for Santana, for the way that she showed up freezing cold and eighty-four minutes late to pick her daughter up, for the thin jacket even in the face of a cold Pennsylvania winter, and for the seven crumbled dollars, left over tip money, that Santana had tried to press into her hand earlier?

"I'm sorry I was so—" Santana started, cutting off as she realized that Brittany had started talking too. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"What are you studying in school?" Brittany asked with a gentle smile.

"Uh, business," Santana answered, trying to relax and let Brittany do this for them. Even if it was out of pity, it was clearly tied to her affection for Mattie, and that was something that Santana didn't want to jeopardize. "It has good prospects for after I graduate." It wasn't necessarily what she wanted to do, but it was okay, and it was something where she could maybe find a job that paid pretty well soon after her graduation so that she could support Mattie on more than just a part time waitress's paycheck.

"Are you graduating soon?" Brittany asked.

Santana shook her head. "Not really," she said with a sigh. "I'm only a part time student, so it's taking me a long time. I would be in my last semester right now, but I still have about two years to go."

"I really admire that, though." Brittany's blue eyes were so sincere and piercing that it was almost hard to breathe. "That you're still working at it. I'm not sure I would have been able to split my time like you do and still stay so focused on each thing."

Santana gave Brittany a small smile and a murmur of thanks. She wasn't totally sure if Brittany was being serious about admiring her, but it felt really good to hear her say that, even if it wasn't true. "Did you go for dance?" Santana asked after a moment.

"No, actually," Brittany said with a laugh. The sound was sudden and bright, and Santana couldn't help but smile in response, a real smile this time. "I actually was a math major. I have a masters in applied mathematics, but I missed dancing, so I spend most of my time doing that."

Santana was impressed. It wasn't that she didn't think that Brittany was intelligent or anything like that, but it was so unexpected to find out that someone who was so incredibly talented with her body was apparently also just as talented with her mind. "Where did the dance program come from? How did you get involved in it?" Santana asked.

"Well, I kind of, like, realized that I had all of this stuff when I was younger, and so did the kids around me, and the kids I went to college with and everything, but there were all of these people who, because of things they couldn't control, couldn't get to the things that I had loved when I was younger." Brittany paused for a second, her fingers fidgeting on the edge of a napkin, before looking up at meeting Santana's eyes. "I had a similar experience in elementary school, but nothing to do with money. I— I wasn't any good at school. It just— It was like being underwater or something. Everything came in all wavy and went out all bubbly and garbled. I didn't understand things the way they wanted to teach them and couldn't say things the way they heard them. It took a standardized test score and someone who really cared about bridging that gap to make me successful the way I am today. I can't, like, find a kid who doesn't understand math the way her teachers say it and fix that, or totally fix the economic inequality in Philly, but I can offer dance to kids who might not be able to take it otherwise."

Santana was speechless for a moment. This whole time, she had been feeling so deeply uncomfortable, because she felt like Brittany was just trying to do something to make herself feel better about Santana's unfortunate situation, but the more they talked, the less true that seemed to be. Was it possible that Brittany had asked for this dinner only because she wanted to?

"That's amazing," Santana said, her voice delicate and quiet. She reached out and stroked Mattie's curly ponytail, smiling at her daughter as the little girl turned to look up at her mama. "I really appreciate what you're doing. I know that we both do."

"Ballet is my bestest," Mattie added with a serious nod. She looked so cute that Santana couldn't help but lean down and press a kiss to her cheek.

"Mine too," Brittany said to Mattie. "Especially when I have such awesome kids in my class." She winked at Santana. "And such great moms, too." Santana blushed again.

Luckily, the food arrived before she had to say anything in response to that.

* * *

An hour later, half of Santana's pizza was gone and so was most of Brittany's. Mattie had eaten, and then fought with her closing eyes for several minutes until she had fallen asleep, curled up on the bench with her head in Santana's lap. Santana had eased the ponytail out, slipping the elastic and the ribbon into her pocket, and stroked through Mattie's hair, keeping her calm and asleep as she talked with Brittany.

And talk they had, with increasing ease. They hadn't dipped into the truly personal, not on Santana's side at least, staying away from the topics of her father and Mattie's, among other things, but Santana couldn't remember if she had ever opened up to someone like she had opened up to Brittany over the last sixty minutes.

High school had been a blur of popularity games and a deep sense of dread that Santana had never been able to shake. Her first year of college had taken a sudden shift only a month in, and her whole life continued to shake and settle into its new shape for the rest of that year. After Mattie had been born, Santana took classes online when she could. The classes she took in person, she was intently focused on passing, and did not spend a lot of time hanging around after. Work was grueling enough as it was, even without a manager who always seemed to be looking for reasons to reprimand her. Santana's life just had never been set up well for deep connections. She had a few people at work she could say hi to and whisper a few complaints about a table or the manager. Ms. Blair, the landlady, was probably Santana's closest friend at the moment, other than Mattie. Even her relationship with her mother had its moment of tension.

So, it was amazing to be with someone who could make Santana feel so comfortable so quickly, and Santana felt a lightness in her heart that she hadn't felt in a very long time.

Eventually, their conversation lulled in a natural break, and Santana glanced at the clock. "Wow," she murmured, realizing how late it was getting. "I really should be getting Mattie home."

"Oh, yeah, sorry," Brittany said, realizing the time herself. She gestured for the waitress and handed her a credit card before Santana could say anything at all. "Thank you so much for coming to dinner with me. I had a really great time."

"I did, too," Santana said, getting caught in Brittany's eyes for a moment. "Thank you."

The waitress came back with the receipt for Brittany before that moment could stretch on, and Santana busied herself with working herself out of the booth, carefully supporting Mattie until she could scoop her up, so that Mattie's head was resting on Santana's shoulder. Mattie barely stirred. She had been sharing a bed with Santana since she had gotten too big for the co-sleeper that she had originally been in, and was a heavy sleeper. Brittany stood and helped Santana wrap Mattie's coat around her shoulders like a blanket for the walk to the car.

As they turned to go, Santana slipped the five dollar bill out of her wallet and onto the table. She knew how hard it was to be a waitress.

* * *

The car ride home passed it near silence. The radio played in the background, and Mattie slept in the carseat as they drove towards Santana's apartment, but Brittany and Santana didn't say much of anything. Santana really didn't feel like she needed to. After all of the talking they had done during dinner, these few minutes of silence felt comfortable and easy. Santana turned her head slightly to watch Brittany's face in the variable brightness of street lamps and headlights, her eyes, freckles, lips, and hair all catching Santana's gaze. Eventually, Brittany turned and caught her stare, leaving Santana blushing and staring at the red light they were stopped at.

There happened to be a parking space just in front of Santana's building. Brittany climbed out as Santana did, holding the leftover food in one hand and Mattie's backpack and coat in the other, while Santana lifted her daughter out of the car seat in the back. She helped Santana again, tucking Mattie's coat with deft fingers and a concentration that made Santana's stomach flip over. It wasn't more than fifteen steps between Brittany's car and the front door, but Brittany walked with them anyway.

When they reached the door, Santana paused, looking up into Brittany's eyes, somehow still such a bright sparkling blue, even in the dim light. "Thank you again," she whispered, "for everything today. I seriously— I'm grateful."

Brittany's eyes searched Santana's face for a moment before she whispered, "It was my pleasure. Seriously."

Santana knew she should say goodbye and go inside, but she lingered a moment longer, even though it was cold outside and even though she wasn't totally sure why she was waiting.

"My number?" Brittany said, after another pause, as she took a step closer, Mattie the only thing between them at this point. "It, um, doesn't just have to be about dance. You can— Whenever."

"Okay," Santana nodded, her voice barely audible. "I will."

"Okay." Brittany hesitated one more time, and Santana wondered if Brittany was about to lean in, and if that did happen, what she would feel about it.

But the moment passed, and Brittany squeezed Santana's arm, and rested her hand on Mattie's back, before climbing back into her car and driving away.

Santana watched her tail lights for a moment too long, before she finally went inside.

* * *

Even though Mattie was a heavy sleeper, she couldn't quite make it through Santana pulling off her dance clothes and putting her into a pair of fleece footed pajamas. Still, she was clearly half asleep as she reached out to curl her fingers around Santana's shirt. "I didn't say bye to Miss Brittany," she mumbled as her mouth curled into a mournful pout.

"That's okay, sweetie, she knew you meant it," Santana soothed, pressing a kiss to Mattie's nose.

She let out a little whimper, but didn't start crying. "Can Miss Brittany come to dinner at our house?"

Santana's fingers stumbled on the zipper of Mattie's pajamas. She had started to get comfortable with Brittany, yes, and she was less worried about that dinner being about pity, but it was a whole different thing to invite Brittany to their home, where she could see the tiny studio space that Santana struggled to make work, an apartment that would have been small for a college student by herself, much less with a two year old added in, where she would eat the food that Santana cooked in her kitchenette, where she would see much further into the intimate, secret, and hidden parts of Santana's life.

"Please, Mama," Mattie added with a yawn.

"Maybe, Mattie-Bear," Santana said, not wanting to upset her baby girl, but not sure that she could say yes.

"Okay, Mama." Mattie reached up, and Santana scooped her daughter into her arms and settled into the rocking chair, where Mattie's baby blanket was waiting. "I like Miss Brittany," Mattie murmured, settling her head onto Santana's chest.

"I do, too, baby," Santana whispered back, a little scared at how truthful that was. "Go to sleep, sweet girl."

"Love you, night."

"Love you, too. Night-night, Mattie-Bear."

In moments, Mattie was asleep in Santana's arms, but Santana's heart still thumped and thumped and thumped.


	2. Never Be the Same

By the morning, Santana was ready to forget about Mattie's mumbled idea to have Miss Brittany for dinner. She found Mattie's teacher interesting and pretty and nice, but that was it, and that was not something that she needed to invite into her actual home.

Not that there was anything wrong with the way that Santana and Mattie lived. It was just— Well, small. It was very small. Santana had only been able to afford a studio apartment while she was pregnant, and her financial situation was hardly any better now. Over the years, she had done her best to make it as livable as possible, keeping all of their few possessions very neat, but there was only so much that she could do. She just didn't think she could stand watching herself and—more importantly—Mattie reduced to some poor pitiful charity case, seeing that sad, dehumanizing look in Brittany's beautiful blue eyes.

After a restless night reliving the dinner they'd already had, Santana was still hanging onto her morning coffee for dear life when she heard Mattie calling from the bedroom. Santana rose and walked around the wall the divided the two areas of their home to find Mattie sitting up in bed, her dark brown curls sticking up on one side from where she had been laying against her pillow. "Good morning, Mattie-Bear," she said, smiling at her daughter. Even on her grumpiest, groggiest, bleariest mornings, something about Mattie with rosy cheeks and curls askew always seemed to bring a smile to her face.

"Mama, Miss Brittany say yes?" Mattie asked.

"To what?" Santana asked, her heart already sinking a little.

"To come to dinner!" Mattie explained, hopping across the bed and into Santana's arms.

Santana sighed. She had known that was going to be the question, really, but she wanted to believe somehow that Mattie had forgotten. She really should have known better, though. "I haven't asked her yet, baby," Santana said, walking through the narrow pathway between the bed and the wall to get to their dresser. A few towels on the top made a soft surface for Santana to change Mattie on.

"Why?" Mattie asked, tears filling her big, brown eyes, and her lower lip jutting out in a pout.

"It's too early in the day, baby," Santana said, feeling her resolve slipping already. She hated making Mattie sad. There were so many parts of their lives that were sad already, even if Mattie didn't know about or understand most of them at this point. "Miss Brittany's probably still sleeping."

"Okay," Mattie said, swallowing her tears, though her lip still pouted out a bit. "When will she be waked up?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe we should wait until we see Miss Brittany for dance class. Then you could ask her yourself," Santana suggested, hoping that Mattie would somehow forget before they got to that point in the week.

"I will make her a beautiful card!" Mattie said, smiling.

Santana couldn't help but answer with a smile of her own. Mattie had such a big heart. "Let's at least wait until after breakfast, okay, Mattie-Bear?"

"Okay, Mama-Bear. I have a growly tummy anyway."

Santana laughed out loud. "Okay, let's get your little bear tummy fed, then," she said as she helped Mattie out of her pajamas.

* * *

Mattie didn't forget.

Every morning, she woke up and asked Santana how many more days until dance class. There were already five different cards or drawings stacked up in Mattie's dance bag. Mattie told everyone they came across—the cashier at the grocery store, the postal worker delivering mail, her daycare teacher, Mrs. Blair, even her Uncle Sammy—that Miss Brittany was gonna come to their house for dinner. Eventually and torturously slowly, Santana came to accept that it was going to happen. Santana wouldn't be able to break Mattie's heart, and she didn't think Miss Brittany would be able to, either.

So, though she was still dreading it, Santana started to make plans. She couldn't go overboard on a nice dinner for Brittany, even if she wanted to impress her, because that would mean they would have to scrape by on their meals until her next paycheck. Santana had never once let her pride get ahead of Mattie's well-being, and she certainly wasn't going to start now.

Sam showed up, the day before Mattie's next dance class, with a half dozen perfectly ripe tomatoes, claiming his mom had accidentally bought too many and given him the extras, and what was he going to do with so many tomatoes, anyway?

Santana rolled her eyes at him and kissed him on the cheek, before she got to work on her spaghetti sauce as Sam rolled around the floor with Mattie, wrestling and dancing and sticking princess stickers on each other's foreheads. She knew that she was lucky to have Sam. Not many people would go against a friend to stand by his one night stand, much less stay around for the next three or so years, doing anything he could—anything that Santana would let him do. He was probably the closest thing that Santana had to a best friend, even if she still couldn't bring herself to tell him most of what she was feeling and thinking. But she was grateful all the same.

* * *

Tuesday crawled. Santana was up almost a whole hour before Mattie, pacing, inching furniture this way and that, ending up with everything back where it was, because you really can't create space where there isn't any to begin with. She felt jumpy even before her first cup of coffee, and before Mattie woke she had already downed three.

On Tuesdays, Santana usually did homework in the morning for an hour or so while Mattie played with her doll or colored, and then they ran errands or played together until lunch. After lunch, Santana dropped Mattie off with Mrs. Blair downstairs, then went to her class. Mrs. Blair dropped Mattie off at dance class, and Santana came, usually about 10 minutes late for the start of class.

Santana knew she wasn't going to be able to focus on homework, so she spent the hour after Mattie woke cleaning every inch of the apartment, taking it from clean to spotless. When Mattie dumped a bowl of crackers onto the floor while describing what Elmo and the gang had been up to that week, Santana decided that they needed to get out of the house. Her jacket was too thin to take Mattie to the park, not to mention that Mattie didn't have any snow pants. So, even though they had gone on Friday, as they always did, Santana packed Mattie up and walked a few blocks to the library. Mattie happily picked out books to look over and Lego blocks to build with while Santana turned her phone over in her hands and watched the clock tick down.

Finally, the clock ticked down enough to go home for lunch. Santana made peanut butter sandwiches, cutting up an apple and some carrot sticks for Mattie, though she barely managed to finish her own sandwich. Once they were both done, Santana packed up her backpack and Mattie's ballet bag. Mattie was usually sleepy, ready for Santana to tuck her in on Mrs. Blair's couch and sing her a song before she slipped off. Today, Mattie couldn't lay still and kept interrupting Santana's song to call over her shoulder to Mrs. Blair that they were going to be going to dance class later and Miss Brittany was going to have dinner. By the third time, Santana looked at the clock and realized that she had to leave now if she wanted to make it to class, so she kissed Mattie and tried to slip away. Mattie immediately burst into tears at the thought of Santana leaving. Ten minutes later, after Mattie had cried herself to a semi-asleep state while Santana held her, Santana shouldered her backpack, thanked Mrs. Blair, and took off sprinting for the bus that she needed to catch to campus.

For the first bit of luck of the day, Santana managed to get up into the bus just before the doors shut, though she was far too late for a seat. The bus ride felt long, but class felt longer. For the first time since a seven-month-old Mattie had gotten an ear infection that had kept her up screaming for most of the night, Santana was so distracted in class that she got a question wrong. It was an easy question, too, which made Santana's cheeks burn in shame for the rest of the class.

Traveling to Mattie's dance class erased the shame from her own mistake, as her heart thudded in her chest and a cold, nervous weight sat low in her belly. Santana couldn't get her leg to stop bouncing, and she gladly leaped to her feet when a pregnant woman, several years older than her, boarded the bus, giving up her seat though there were three others that were free, happy to have an excuse to stand.

Santana could feel the anxiety building, weakening her knees, chilling her hands, hollowing her cheeks, as she descended the steps of the bus and ascending the steps of the community center. Cheerful piano music was audible from the doorway, and Santana carefully made her way across the gym, not wanting to slip in her sneakers. She slipped in the door to the ballet studio, paying attention only to her step for the moment, trying to get into the back of the room without making a huge scene. Santana had only just settled down on a tiny metal chair when Mattie came running over.

"Mama!" she whisper-shouted.

"Hi, sweet girl," Santana whispered back, pulling Mattie into her lap for a quick squeeze. "Thanks for remembering about your inside voice." For a moment, in spite of all of her nerves, Santana felt at peace.

"I'm go dance with Miss Brittany. After we can ask her, okay, Mama?" Mattie said with a serious nod.

And just like that her nerves came rushing back. Santana looked up and found Brittany looking at them. Her eyes, blue even all the way across a room harshly lit by fluorescent bulbs, caught Santana's attention, and she felt stunned for a moment.

"Okay, Mama?" Mattie repeated a little louder.

"Yeah, baby, of course," Santana said, shaking her head to clear her brain and focusing down on Mattie. "Go have fun with Miss Brittany." Mattie gave her a big, cheesy grin and hopped off to join the class of four and five year olds who towered over her. She kept up pretty well, and the two little girls on either side of her were very careful to help her whenever they thought she wasn't quite getting it. Brittany had to shoo them back to their own spots several times, saying that she was confident that Mattie could do it by herself if they would only let her. Mattie gave Brittany such a proud grin at that compliment that Santana could feel her heart wake up a little bit. She couldn't articulate the luck that she felt that Brittany had somehow been the one to want to teach a class like this, for kids who couldn't afford the sort of class that Brittany absolutely could be teaching instead.

It didn't make her feel less nervous though. Perhaps even more. Brittany had such a high opinion of Mattie. Would that change if she saw the bed that Santana had shared with her little daughter since it was safe enough for her to be there or the couch that had been carefully covered by a slipcover to hid the out-of-date and worn upholstering? Or, if not Mattie, would her opinion of Santana change?

Santana didn't know why it mattered so much. It wasn't like she hadn't put Mattie's joy in front of her own pride many times in the past, and it wasn't like she wouldn't do it many times in the future. Santana had done so, without hesitation, time and time again. But with Brittany, it ached in her heart to think that Brittany may finally realize just how sparsely Santana really lived.

The class was forty-five minutes to give a fifteen minute break between each of the classes. Santana usually arrived ten to fifteen minutes into the class, so thirty-two heart-pounding minutes later, Mattie was tearing across the floor to leap into Santana's lap again. "Now?" she asked hopefully, wiggling with excitement. Santana swallowed and nodded. "Okay, I get my cards!" Mattie dove for her bag and pulled out a small stack of scribbled drawing, creased from Mattie digging around in the ballet bag and adding more all week. She scampered back and grabbed Santana's hand, dragging her with a considerable amount of force over to where Brittany stood, preparing music for the next class and drinking from a bottle of water.

"Hey there, Best Mattie," Brittany said with a wink to Santana as Mattie approached her.

"Miss Brittany!" Mattie said, her grin huge. "These is for you." She handed Brittany the stacks of paper.

Brittany flipped through each one, studying it carefully, nodding and making appreciative noises. "Will you tell me about them?" she asked.

"Well, this one be Mama, and this one be Miss Brittany, and this one be Mattie," she said pointing to each scribbled, uneven blob on the page. Brittany looked impressed, and Santana melted a bit because of it. " And this-" Mattie said, forcing Brittany to flip to the next paper. "be a-" Mattie broke off and looked at her mother. "-a inba-"

"An invitation," Santana supplied.

"Yes, a inbatation," Mattie said proudly.

"An invitation? How special! To what am I being invited?" Brittany said, her grin genuine and easy.

"Dinner," Mattie answered with a huge grin of her own. "At Mama's house and also at my house."

"Two houses?" Brittany asked, "How impressive!"

"No, Miss Brittany!" Mattie laughed. "Just one. The same."

"I think I could do that, then. When is this dinner happening?" Brittany asked, glancing up at Santana.

Santana opened her mouth to respond, ready to let Brittany know that they could do it whenever, it certainly didn't have to be then, any time really, but before she could say anything, Mattie jumped in. "Tonight!"

"Oh, sweetie, Miss Brittany might have plans tonight. It's very short notice." Santana cut in, trying to explain, walking the line so that Brittany wouldn't feel obligated, but hopefully Mattie wouldn't feel sad, either.

Tears welled up in Mattie's eyes, and her lip pouted out, "Okay," she said, her voice thick with the sob she was holding back.

"No, no, today works for me," Brittany broke in hurriedly. "I have one more class, but I could be by in about ninety minutes? Does that work?" Mattie's smile was sunshine, and Santana could see the way that Brittany almost basked in it. She threw her arms around Brittany's neck.

"Okay, we'll see you around six, then?" Santana confirmed, the cold, weak feeling of nerves settling more firmly into her stomach.

"Looking forward to it," Brittany said, looking up at Santana over Mattie's shoulder. A shudder ran through Santana's body.

"Okay, Mattie-bear, let's go home and get everything ready for Miss Brittany."

"Yes!" Mattie instantly popped out Brittany's arms and practically crawled up Santana, eager to leave so that the time for dinner and Miss Brittany's arrival could come along faster.

* * *

If Santana had been nervous earlier, that was nothing compared to how she felt now. She had laid out plates on the table, found the nicest napkins that she owned, and, with Brittany's arrival expected to happen in the next few minutes, gotten the water ready for the spaghetti, though she wouldn't put it on just yet. She had persuaded Mattie to look at books on the floor, figuring it would be a lot easier to shove their library books back onto the shelf, rather than clean up whatever mess Mattie could make by running around in the time before Brittany came.

She wished she could have a garlic bread or something like that, something to just bring the dinner up to another level, but on her budget all she had managed was the spaghetti, sauce, and a clementine for each person at the table. The hour and a half gave her plenty of time to fuss with the whole apartment again, wiping down the counters and sweeping the floor, even though there was nothing to wipe or sweep since the last time that she had done so a few hours earlier.

Brittany's knock on the door sent a jolt through her.

"Miss Brittany!" Mattie shrieked, jumping up from a pile of library books to open the door.

Brittany was in the doorway, changed from her dance clothes into dark skinny jeans and a thick grey sweater with a lilac scarf wrapped around her neck. She looked so confidently pretty that Santana forgot how hot the pot was and burned the tip of her finger. "Hey Mattie," she said with a smile, coming through the door. Mattie shoved it closed behind her, grinning.

"Thanks for coming," Santana said, coming forward, her finger still smarting.

"Thanks for inviting me," Brittany said. She handed Santana a bakery box. "I thought I'd provide dessert, if that's okay with you." Santana looked into the window on the top of the box, finding three perfectly decorated cupcakes.

"Oh, thank you," Santana said, flustered at the gift.

"Miss Brittany!" Mattie said, reaching up to tug on Brittany's hand.

"Yes, Miss Mattie?" Brittany asked with a smile, turning to look at Mattie.

"Do wanna tour?" Mattie offered, giving Brittany a huge smile as she held onto her hand.

"Yes, that would be excellent."

Mattie lead Brittany back to the door. "This be the door, and Mama puts her coat there." Mattie pointed to the hook beside the door where Santana's coat was hanging. Brittany, noticing the shoes lined up neatly, nudged hers off and joined them into the line. Mattie turned to the left, bringing Brittany to the corner of the apartment. "Here are our table. We has three chairs, even though Mama and I are two people," Mattie said seriously. "But Uncle Sammy likes dinner some times." She looked up at Brittany and then added, "Oh, and for you!"

Santana could feel her cheeks burning red, but she focused on stirring the spaghetti, waiting for it to soften and cook. She knew exactly how they lived, how small and carefully positioned everything was, maximizing the little space they had, but she couldn't bring herself to look and see what Brittany's face looked like.

"Mama is in the titchen, so come over here," Mattie said, directing Brittany to the couch. "Do wanna sit down?" Mattie climbed up, bouncing a few times and landing on her bottom. "Ooo, so comfy!" She grinned at Brittany until Brittany came and sat down beside her. Then, Mattie slipped off the edge, laughing. "Come on, Miss Brittany Slow Poke!" she called, scampering towards Santana's desk.

Brittany laughed, a warm rich sound that sent chills down Santana's spine and goosebumps blooming across her arms.

"Mama goes to school here, but only sometimes. Other times she gotta take the bus, but I don't go." Mattie hopped two-footed the few feet between Santana's desk and the bookshelf beside it. "And books live here! For Mama," Mattie put her hand on the top shelf, "and me." She pointed to the bottom shelf, which only had a few books on it, since Mattie's library books were still on the floor.

"Mama and I got a very comfy bed, too!" Mattie announced, popping up from her crouch so suddenly that Brittany had to lean out of the way to avoid being headbutted in the chin.

Santana, distracted by trying to drain the pasta without burning herself again, didn't notice Mattie leading Brittany around the wall that divided the apartment into two spaces, until it was too late to stop her. Instead, she closed her eyes, leaning over the sink slightly, clearly able to hear Mattie chattering on about her playroom (the bottom half the closet, which she was almost too tall to use), their bed and rocking chair (that combined to take up more than two third of the floor space behind the wall, and the bathroom (which had no tub and just a small shower that Santana had been washing Mattie in since she grew too big for the kitchen sink). "Please, please don't let her pity us," she murmured to whoever might be listening. "Please, please, please."

By the time Mattie led Brittany back around the wall, Santana was putting out the pot of spaghetti, mixed with her homemade sauce. The clementine graced each plate (Mattie's peeled and sectioned for her), and a glass of water sat at each setting. Santana found herself glad all over that her mother and Sam both visited sometimes, because that meant that she actually had a set of plates that matched and hopefully made them look less pathetic than they were. Mattie's plate was the same, a dark blue plastic, but she had a small pink cup instead of the larger clear ones the grown ups had.

"It smells great," Brittany said, coming to sit down. Santana let Mattie take the side of the table facing the wall, putting her in the middle of her mother and dance teacher. When she sat in her own seat, Santana looked up to find Brittany's cobalt eyes watching her. A flush rose to her face, and she offered the spaghetti to Brittany to give herself something to do. Brittany scooped some out for her plate and waited while Santana did the same, giving Mattie some first, and then herself. There was a little bit left in there, in case anyone wanted a second helping (otherwise, Santana would be eating it for lunch the next day).

There was quiet for a moment, while everyone took their first few bites.

"Wow," Brittany murmured, setting her fork down. "What kind of sauce is this?"

"Mama sauce!" Mattie said with a grin, a little of it smeared down her chin.

"You made this?" Brittany asked, looking at Santana.

"Yeah," Santana answered, "I mean, Sam had some tomatoes, I think his mom got them from a farmer's market or something, so they're really nice tomatoes. Although, it's February, so maybe they're from a greenhouse? I-"

Brittany reached out to touch Santana's hand, and she felt her words die in her throat. "It's delicious. You're an amazing cook," Brittany said, her eyes piercing deep into Santana.

"Thank you," Santana whispered.

Mattie monopolized most of the conversation, which Santana didn't mind at all. She loved listening to her little daughter talk, and she loved the enthusiastic and authentic way that Brittany responded. The meal went about as well as expected and perhaps a little better. Santana managed not to drop anything, and Mattie only spilled her water once, none of which poured into Brittany's lap. Santana learned a little more about the math that Brittany did and was even more impressed than she had been.

The cupcakes were delicious and a pretty good size for even little Mattie to manage. As soon as she finished, Mattie hopped down from the table, despite the red sauce and chocolate frosting smear across her face. "Let's color!" she declared, hopping up and down.

"Just a second, Mattie-Bear-" Santana started.

"No, Mama!" Mattie said shaking her head and stamping her feet.

"Mattie, you have-"

"Nooo!" Tears came to Mattie's eyes, and she shrieked, turning around and running towards their bedroom, if it could be called that.

Santana could feel her face flaming as she stood, embarrassed to have Mattie throwing a temper tantrum on top of everything else. "I'm so sorry," she said to Brittany, who shook her head with a gentle smile. Taking a steadying breath, Santana followed the direction that Mattie had gone, finding her in the closet she called her playroom, laying on the floor and crying. Santana scooped her up and carried her to the rocking chair. Mattie's little body curled into her, pressing hot tears, spaghetti sauce, and chocolate into the shoulder of her shirt. After a moment, Mattie's breathing slowed and Santana helped her sit up. "Kiddo, all I wanted to say is that you need to have your face washed off," Santana said with a sigh, her voice gentle. "I know today has been really exciting and everything, but you've got to be able to listen to me. If you had stopped to hear my words, you wouldn't have had to get upset."

Mattie nodded mournfully. Santana could see the dark circles under her eyes, normally bright eyes clouded by exhaustion. She wondered if Mattie had stayed asleep for long when she went to class. Even if she had, it had been a week of anticipation leading to this day, an early morning and a nap that, at the very least, started out poorly. The chocolate cupcake probably didn't help matters much, nor did the fact that it was Mattie's bedtime. "I think it's time for bed, baby."

"Noooo," Mattie whined, though her voice was tired and quiet.

"I know," Santana soothed. "Let's just go say goodnight to Miss Brittany and then I'll tuck you in, okay?" Mattie nodded without further argument, which was how Santana knew she was truly tired. They stopped by the sink in the bathroom for a moment to wash the mess off Mattie's face, and then went back out into the larger space of the apartment.

Mattie went right up to Brittany and threw her arms around Brittany's neck. "Thanks for dinner, Miss Brittany," she whispered.

Brittany, holding Mattie in a tight hug, smiled. "Thanks for having me, Miss Mattie."

"Do wanna spend the night?" Mattie asked, laying her head on Brittany's shoulder.

"No, sweetie, Brittany has to go home," Santana broke in.

"Yeah, that's where my bed is," Brittany said with a smile. "Speaking of bed, is that where you're headed?" Mattie nodded and yawned again.

Brittany handed her off to Santana, who thanked Brittany for coming and carried Mattie back towards their bed. After brushing Mattie's teeth and getting her into her pajamas, Santana barely made it through the first verse of "When You Wish Upon a Star" before Mattie was asleep in her arms. She carefully tucked her into their bed, kissing her forehead.

For a moment, Santana watched Mattie sleep. If she could curl up and sleep beside her daughter that minute, she would. Things were so hard sometimes: the long hours at work and school; the mountain of debt she would have to work off if she could even get a degree and a good job; being the only one parenting a two year old who was sweet and wonderful, but two years old, and therefore prone to tantrums and unreasonableness, as any kid would be; the daily indignities that came from being so aware of the things that they had and the things that they didn't and knowing that other people were aware of them, too. But Mattie was worth that, one hundred times over.

So, Santana would gladly lay down with her baby girl, but she knew there were dishes to do and homework for her class, all the things that she had taken on three years ago when she had decided to have and to keep the sweet toddler in the other room.

Santana walked around the divider and looked up to see a tall blonde standing at her sink, arms elbow deep in soapy water. She gasped, startled for a moment, before realizing that Brittany was doing the dishes for her.

"You don't have to do that," Santana protested, as Brittany let the water drain out of the sink and turned around, wiping her hands on the thigh of her jeans.

"I know," Brittany said, walking towards the center of the room. Her legs were so long. "But I wanted to. I'm sorry if that cupcake was a bit much." Brittany stuck her hands in her back pockets.

"No, no. I'm sorry. She has just been really excited about this since she thought of the idea last week. I think it wore her out. She's not really like that very often," Santana said, running her fingers through her hair, trying to match even one ounce of Brittany's easy good looks.

"Yeah," Brittany said with a smile, "I know. She's a really good kid, Santana."

"Thank you," Santana murmured. "I- I always hope she will be. It's hard to know if what I want to teach her is working."

"I don't think you have to worry about that."

Santana blushed under the intensity of Brittany's blue eyes and faltered for something else to focus on for a moment. "Would you like some coffee or something? Or, if you have to get home, feel free."

"Coffee would be great, if I'm not keeping you from anything."

Santana thought about the two chapters she had to read, a short essay that needed to be written, and the cell phone bill she needed to pay and said, "Nothing that can't wait." She wasn't sure why she had said that, after spending seven long days dreading having Brittany in her home. But now that she was here, long and lithe and lovely and so, so kind, Santana didn't want her to go so fast.

Before she could put her foot in it, Santana hurried to brew two cups of coffee. Brittany made a few idle comments about some of the local traffic, which grew into a comfortable but shallow conversation. Santana brought the two cups to the table, not trusting herself to keep the coffee in its cup unless she had a hard surface to rest it on.

"You have a wonderful home," Brittany said as she sat down.

Santana bristled a bit, wondering if Brittany was teasing her. She was aware of their circumstances. "No, no, I mean it," Brittany broke in, clearly reading Santana's face. "Like, I know that it's small, and it was probably hard at times, but looking around, it's clear that you've done such a great job making it a home. It's cozy, it's safe," Brittany shrugged. "I don't always explain myself well, but I hope you understand what I mean. I'm sure you want to give her a bed of her own and a room, and maybe even a playroom. But it's so clear how loved Mattie is, Santana. You've done a wonderful job making this a home."

For a few moments after Brittany had finished, Santana just sat and breathed. The words felt stuck in her chest, and she could do nothing but stare at Brittany and wonder. "No one has ever— I mean, that's what I try to do. I've been trying since I found out just to give her—," Santana broke off and took a breath, feeling like her lungs were only half full. "Everything. Anything. A good life, despite—," she shrugged and gestured, meaning the lack of another parent, the small space, the tight budget, everything.

"You have," Brittany murmured, reaching out to cup Santana's hand in both of her own.

The air fizzled between them. "Thank you," Santana whispered.

Neither of them moved for a long moment, breathing almost in sync.

Finally, Brittany sat back, shaking her head just a touch as if to clear cobwebs away. "I don't want to take up anymore of your time. I'm sure there's a lot of things you have to be doing that you didn't do today because of me."

Santana almost protested, inviting her to stay a little longer, but Brittany was absolutely right. "Thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Mattie, and you didn't have to say yes."

"I was happy to," Brittany said, with an honest, easy smile. They both rose, and Brittany grabbed her coat. "I know you have my number. Don't be afraid to use it. Really."

Santana's cheeks darkened a little, but she nodded. After a moment of hesitation, they hugged, and then, Brittany was gone. A lingering feeling, unexplainable in its magnitude, pressed against Santana's breastbone. She let out a long sigh. The moment felt somehow incomplete, until she reached for her phone. _Very happy you came,_ she typed, pressing the blue send button.

A moment later a message popped up on her screen. _My pleasure._ Santana grinned. _Goodnight Santana._

 _Goodnight Brittany._ Santana typed back. She held her phone to her chest, taking deep, steadying breaths. Her homework called, though, and Santana went to her computer, burying the feeling in her heart under a mountain of school work and bills until she could figure out what it meant and what to do with it.


End file.
